Breathing Lies
by Victoria Wright
Summary: Trust no one. Was a motto I was taught and lived by from an early age. I lied to everyone, never feeling a twinge of compunction. That was until I met them. I was torn between telling them the truth or to keep lying. Always regretting the lies I breathed.
1. Prologue: Life

**Disclaimer:**

**I would like to first point out that I of course do not own any of J.K. Rowling's character's since this is obviously a _FanFiction_. I do however own and take credit for the characters I create and introduce. Thanks for understanding. =] Please enjoy a little tease for my Harry Potter FanFiction.**

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Have you ever gotten a sinking feeling? In the pit of your stomach that forewarns you that some way, somehow your life is about to be changed _forever_. A feeling that tells that you had reached a **huge** crossroads in your life where there would be no turning back once you chose one of the paths in front of you. If you have not, when you feel that feeling you most definitely do **not** want to ignore it. Or else the upcoming events in your life will completely sweep you off your feet. Then, jerk you into a huge sea of chaos by the evil under tow of life. Be ready for the craziest ride of your life and….._**Hold fast**_. Or, you just might be shattered into a million pieces by Life. Never to be fixed again, like Humpty Dumpty.

I would know.

I was.


	2. Chapter 1: Mischievous Dancing Eyes

**Disclaimer:**

**Again of course I do not own the J.K. Rowling characters. But do in fact own my characters that I created.**

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I was led into Kings Cross Station by two withered, wrinkled sun dried tomatoes. Who, were also known as my malicious grandparents. They gained custody of me when my mother passed away several years ago. It was while I was walking the unfamiliar floors, of that intimidating English train station, that I felt a foreboding sinking feeling deep in my gut. In my youthful easy, laidback attitude I ignored the vital premonistic feeling. Which was, in a longsighted view, a s-t-u-p-i-d thing to do. If I had paid attention to that sensation of wariness and unease I would have been prepared for what was to come for me. For what was to become of my life. To know that I would never be able to return to the country that had become my beloved home. Except at the time all I knew was that I was to be transferring schools at the will of my grandparents. From America to England.

My mother's parents were the ones who had gained custody of me at the tender age of nine. My grandparents were Scottish born; they had lived in Scotland and Britain their entire lives. My mother, Elisha Blairikson, was born and raised in Scotland then England under their 'careful' guidance. It was not until shortly after my first birthday that Elisha had spirited us away to live in America. She was devastated to have to leave my father behind in England. Except, she and my father knew that the move was necessary. He even welcomed it, since he viewed it as a way for his beloved wife and darling daughter to be tucked away safely in a foreign country. He was too preoccupied with the underground events in England that were dangerously brewing in the Wizarding Community to have to worry about our safety. Everything was balancing on the edge of a knife and was on the brink of war.

England's Second Great War against an evil sorcerer named Voldemort was beginning to commence. Apparently the Dark Lord was reigning terror upon English lands. I wish I knew a whole lot more about the war except the American history books were pretty sketchy on the subject. The American Wizarding Community wanted to keep their noses out of European affairs. Just like the Muggle Community, they adopted the policy of 'isolationism'. The little bits of knowledge that I did have, were from what Elisha told me. According to her, my father had played a really big role in the fight against the sinister wizards and in protecting the Boy-Who-Lived. Or whatever he was called. Truthfully though, none of that matter to me. All that had mattered to me was that because of that _**boy**_ and that _**war**_ I lost my father. All because of that stupid accident…..

_Ouch!_

My thoughts were abruptly put to a halt when a piercing pain lanced up my arm to my shoulder. I glanced back behind myself to see what caused the sudden spasm of pain. I groaned to see that my overly laden trolley was the cause of my suffering. I silently cursed my inability to pack. I had the terrible habit of _always_ packing too many things. This, of course, causes me to pay for it later. How? Oh, by having to lug with me five bags when, just about, everyone else has one. If I could I would seriously love to have this bag that I once saw in a Muggle movie. It was called Mary Poppins. The main character, Marry Poppins, had this cute sort of medium sized carpet bag that had held everything that she could possibly need. No really, anything… At the beginning of the movie she pulls out this huge six foot lamp that looks really heavy out of the bag. I mean, I do realize that there are enchantments that make objects feel feather light. Or to be able to make bags carry endless amounts of objects. However, due to the Underage Wizarding Law that is set world wide I was not capable of performing said spells. There would be the possibility of the grandparents performing said spells for me. Except, well, to put it bluntly they can be really mean and whenever I ask they just sneer at me while saying that it 'builds character' if I suffer.

My little mind tangent was interrupted by my clumsy feet stumbling on the ground. My belongings behind me rattled noisily as I tried to prevent the trolley from running into a poor helpless passerby. Ace, my owl, hooted at me indignantly, telling me to watch where I was going and not to daydream. I scowled at the owl as I tried my hardest to keep pace with my grandparents. The normally sloth like walkers, were happily skipping along like Hansel and Gretel when they first spotted the candy house. They were obviously reveling in the fact that they would be rid of me. We shared a mutual feeling of dislike towards each other. They blamed me for all their woes and troubles. And I resented them for taking out all their frustrations out on me.

An abrupt high pitched shrilly shout caught my attention, causing me to look away from my grandparents quickly retreating backs. I swung my head back around in time to see that they had stopped walking. I was, unfortunately, about to walk straight into the evil duo. I tried to stop from ramming straight into them, except my clumsy feet carried me right into their anyway. I bounced off of them only to entangle myself with my trolley. I tripped backwards and fell right onto my rump. To my instant dismay, all of my possessions had spilled out of the fallen trolley onto the dirty train station floor.

Horrified I glanced up at my grandparents through my bangs terrified of what they would do to me for being so klutzy. I could see through the blankets of my charcoal black hair that they were sneering at me in disgust.

"Stupid, idiotic girl!" Hissed my grandmother.

"We were going to show you to Platform 9 ¾ but now you're on your own, you no good, worthless piece of trash" spat my grandfather.

My grandmother laughed coldly in delight. "Except now I think we're going to leave you stranded here."

I looked at the pair incredulously. Not help me find my way to school? Leave me stranded in a foreign country? The two laughed mockingly at my worried, panic stricken expression. They wouldn't dare do what they threatened…

I scrambled on my hands and knees to pick up whatever objects were within arm's reach. I had to attempt to gather my things before my grandparents could possibly leave me. When I looked up, a second later, they were gone….. How…..How could they have left so _fast_? My eyes darted everywhere in vain for a glimpse of the two.

A furious crimson blush of frustration, desperation, and (to my immediate chagrin) hurt spread across my freckled cheeks. How in the world could my grandparents leave me, their own blood, stranded without a twinge of consciousness? I knew they hated me, I guess, I just never realized just how much. A dull ache began to form in the middle of my temples, then spread behind my eyes, as the severity of my desperate state began to descend on my shoulders. There would be no way I would chose to be left here stranded. I would find my way to Hogwarts if it killed me.

Resolutely, I reached over to pick up a fallen book. Metallic jangling drew my attention away from the book and to my fallen trolley. A rather tall, lean built guy, who appeared to be in his mid- to late teens, had picked it up then set it right again. I eyed the boy warily taking in his handsome features. He had fair skin dotted with freckles, and the most amazing flaming red hair I'd ever seen that was cut in a rugged messy look. He also had a pair of the most baffling golden brown eyes that I had ever seen. They seemed to subtly shift color as light hit them, they would melt into darker tons of gold or brown never once staying just one set color. The boy seemed pretty clean cut but I could not help but be on edge. Back home there was a huge crime rate, no matter if you were Muggle or Wizard, a person always had to suspect someone of stealing their belongings. I cautiously stood up before hesitantly placing some of my possessions back into the trolley. The lad seemed to be studying me also because he chuckled slightly at my apprehensive expression.

"Look lass, I'm not here to rob you. Just help you. I saw what happened with what I'm guessing are your grandparents and decided you were a damsel in distress in need of saving."

My treacherous cheeks painted themselves scarlet in embarrassment. I stooped back down quickly to the floor attempting to hide my face before the boy could see. I peered over at the lad, who had joined me on the floor, through my hair. He had obviously seen my blush because he wore a lopsided grin as he quietly picked up my things. I blushed even harder as I cursed my uncontrollable tendency to blush _extremely_ easily. With cheeks aflame, the mysterious boy helped me gather up my possessions then place them into the metal cart.

"Thanks." I murmured barely meeting the boy's eyes.

I ducked my head in extreme embarrassment. I was mortified that he had seen the scene with the evil old whelps. On top of witnessing it, he was kind enough to help me pick up my things.

"You're welcome." He happily chirped in a voice that indicated that he was smiling.

I lifted my head a smidge so I could see his face. Sure enough, he was wearing that lopsided grin again.

"Well, it was a pleasure. Have a smashing day." He said with a wink before sauntering off.

Mesmerized by the strange lad, my gaze followed after his retreating back. I could not help myself. He was so intriguing. Not to mention, the picture of eyes mischievously dancing in a handsome face, would not be lodged out of my mind's eye.

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**Hello Dear Reader,**

**I do realise that this was short I do apologise. I hope you enjoyed it. =] I wish to update soon. Unfortunately do not seeing that pan out or happening. Thus the reason why it is called a wish. =P Except I will always try my hardest to pump the wonderful creative juices in my head to work and clear time to write in my school preperations. Have a wonderful day. =]**

**~Tory  
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